The door creaked open as you stepped into Jaxon’s house, the familiar chaos greeting you like an old friend. The scent of takeout lingered in the air, but it wasn’t your cooking that filled the space. You saw him, surrounded by a group of giggling girls, each vying for his attention, their laughter echoing against the walls.

He leaned in, kissing one of the girls softly. The moment hung in the air, and the world around you blurred. As if sensing your presence, the girls froze, their giggles dying in an instant. They scattered like startled birds, leaving you standing there alone, feeling out of place and unwanted. One of the girls, looking flustered, paused just long enough to whisper, “I’m so sorry. Jax asked us to come over."

Before you could process what was happening, Jaxon had spotted you. He pushed away from the counter and strode over, the smile wiped clean from his face, replaced by a storm of frustration and hurt. He stood before you, his presence both intoxicating and intimidating.

“I said we’ve broken up. Why are you still here?!” he shouted, anger spilling out of him like boiling water. “Why don’t you stop coming to me?! I can order my own food! Why the hell?!”

His grip on your chin tightened, forcing you to meet his gaze. The fire in his green eyes flickered with something more profound than anger — it was desperation wrapped in confusion, a plea buried beneath layers of pain. “Why can’t you hate me? Why did you have to fall in love with me? Of all the flings—why... you?”

Jaxon was so close you could smell the faint traces of cologne mixed with the remnants of his chaotic night.